Vampires are Allergic to Wine
by disillusionist9
Summary: Harry insists that Draco needs to get out of the house, making reservations at a special restaurant. ONESHOT, fluff, Vampire!Draco. For chiseplushie


_Happy Halloween!_

* * *

"Absolutely not."

"You know you'd love it, c'mon you haven't been out of the house in a week."

"...it is the beginning of summer of course I haven't been out."

"Stop whining, I'm not that stupid. We're going to dinner at that blackout restaurant and won't leave until the sun sets."

Draco stared out the front window of the flat, charmed to let light in and provide a façade to those on the street below, and watched the people mill around without a care in the world. He dug his toes into the plush carpet, feeling some dirt beneath his toes that had likely fallen out of the potted plants strung above his head, and sighed.

"I haven't fed in-"

"Three days, I realize that," Harry countered, cutting Draco off before he could slip further into sullenness. Warm arms wrapped around Draco's torso as Harry continued. "Theo said he's got another few bags from the blood bank for you."

Tongue running over his teeth, not fully extended at that moment, Draco stayed silent as he contemplated his arrangement with Theo. "I think I should take that job at the hospital on nights, it's rubbish for Theo to keep sneaking me blood."

Harry stilled against his back. The words fell from his lips carefully, as if Harry had chewed on them thoroughly before speaking. "You're ready to be out, then?"

"I survived our relationship getting into the papers, I will survive this, Harry."

"If you aren't ready-"

"I am." Draco turned, and kissed Harry quickly before disentangling himself and walking down the hallway. "And I hope you made reservations at the restaurant, it is notoriously difficult to get a table if you didn't."

* * *

Harry thought he wouldn't mind the darkness as much as he did. If his feet weren't woven between Draco's under their table, he knew he would be hyperventilating.

A hand he recognized by the shape of the callouses, the warmth of the palm contrasting with the chill of the fingers, and how it reached out to his, grabbed his fingertips to stop them from drumming nervously against the tabletop. Weaving their hands together, Harry tried to take in a shuddering breath to calm down as Draco took his other hand as well.

"You're not in that pit anymore," Draco said. The words were soft, barely loud enough to be considered a whisper.

"I know that," Harry said, biting his lip in an apology at his callous tone. He knew Draco could see the way he winced through the gloom. "How does this place look?"

Draco scoffed, the sound reverberating in his nose a bit. One of his thumbs rubbed a soothing path across Harry's knuckles. "They don't need to worry about matching or tasteful decor down here. This place is built for tactile, not for visual aesthetic. All the waiters and waitresses are wearing funny eyeglasses."

"Night vision goggles. I doubt they get many vampire customers."

"There is that."

Harry could hear the smile in Draco's voice, and one of the cold hands moved away so Draco could take another sip from his glass. A warm sigh floated from the other side of the table. "Stop looking at me like that, Potter."

"Like what?"

Draco ran his calf up Harry's leg while scoffing again. "Like a Gryffindor. All sap."

"I reserve the right to check out my boyfriend while on a date with him."

"Even if you can't see him?"

"Especially then."

Harry put up a token protest when Draco insisted on feeding him from their cheese and fruit platter. None of the dishes available could cause too much of a mess, thankfully, or else Harry would have left with stains all down his front. Draco's cool touch chilled the fruit before it met Harry's lips, which only made them feel more overheated.

If the waiters and waitresses noticed something odd about the two of them, they didn't comment on it, as Harry made his way through the bottle of wine Draco ordered for him. Even though he couldn't drink more than a few sips before risking getting sick for several days, Draco's taste in wine was untouched, though he was now using his knowledge to corner the market in vampire circles for synthetic blood.

Leaving the restaurant hand in hand, Draco kept his sunglasses in his pocket as the sun had fully set, one of the benefits of the daylight hours growing shorter. The fine cut fabric of his sleeve rubbed against Harry's jumper as they walked hand in hand close to each other. Evidence of three glasses of wine bloomed over Harry's cheeks, turning his entire body into a heat lamp for his boyfriend, the pale skin of knuckles brushing underneath the rim of his glasses deliciously cool against his skin. Like the cool side of a pillow, Draco's cheek against his own as they embraced, preparing to apparate, was heavenly.


End file.
